


Freshman Fifteen

by Isaisanisa



Series: College AU verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-25 23:25:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isaisanisa/pseuds/Isaisanisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After traveling the country with his Private Investigator dad and his overprotective brother, Sam finally gets the chance to settle in one place at college where he'll meet the people and make the decisions that completely change the course of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, all mistakes are very much my own.  
> Still, I hope you enjoy it.

Castiel Novak was the first roommate he met. The other two hadn’t arrived yet and after kicking around some boxes Sam thought he would look around campus a bit before unpacking the rest. He passed by the guy on his way downstairs.

_Poor kid_ , Sam thought, quickly catching a box that had slipped from the top of the pile the freshman was carrying. The box was one of four; all of them the standard size that U-Haul sold, all of them very uniform. Like the kid, he noticed. The stranger was almost half a foot shorter than Sam’s 6’4”, short dark hair messy with sweat from Kansas’s August heat, and eyes a startling blue. _Poetry blue_ , his brain supplied, if he wrote a poem for a girl he would describe her eyes as the same fictitious shade of bright blue. Not that he had feminine features-- on the contrary, his jaw was square and pronounced, riddled with stubble. His body was lean and the length of his arms that could be seen under his rolled up oxford shirt were muscular and tense with the weight of the load. The box Sam caught weighed several pounds, the rest probably did as well.

“You have--” the stranger started, obviously assessing the taller man as well. “You have fast reflexes.”

“Right place/right time, I’m sure.” Sam shifted the box so he could hold on to it more comfortably. He turned around to head back up the way he came. “Let me help you there, where’s your room?”

“I can handle it, just put it on top of the pile.” The stranger held his pile a little closer to Sam, urging him to return the last one. Instead, Sam smiled softly and started to climb the rest of the flight.

“It’s no trouble if I’m already holding it anyways.” Sam looked over his shoulder to make sure the stranger was still following before carrying on. “Besides, how were you planning on opening any doors like that?”

“My room number is 312. Do you know where that is?” The man’s shifting shoulders suggested that he wasn’t comfortable with relying on new people. Well Sam wasn’t either, but college was an uncomfortable experience and friends were almost necessary for survival.

“Actually, I do. It means you’re on the third floor, in the first dorm, with the second room. You’re looking at Mr. 311.” Sam threw a wink over his shoulder at the top of the last landing and headed left, around the square stairwell wall. He shifted the box over to his left hand and fished his own dorm key out from his right back pocket. Each of the three floors of the building had four dorms and each dorm had four individual rooms and two shared bathrooms. The dorms also included a living area furnished with a hard-cushioned couch, a rounded breakfast table, and four chairs. The kitchen area had sink, counters, cabinets, and a fridge, but no microwave. Sam had hoped one of the other boys would bring one or else he would suggest that they split the cost of one from Walmart. Sam wasn’t much of a cook, but he could microwave a cup of ramen pretty successfully so he figured he would get by.

            Mr. 312 seemed to be cataloguing the common areas as he walked past them and down the hallway. On the left of the hallway, in a row, were three of the bedrooms, the last one sitting at the hallway’s end. On the right was the sink area with a giant mirror that spanned the distance between bathrooms on either side. Both had a shower and toilet, useful for when one of the boys used one or the other for an extended period of time. Sam noted that an air freshener might come in handy, having shared motel bathrooms with his brother and father for more than a few unpleasant years.

Sam stopped outside of the second room. “Did you stop by Registration and grab your key?”

“Yes, that was the first thing I did.” Mr. 312 turned his attention away from the counters of the sink area and back to Sam. “The key is in my pocket let me just….”

As he struggled to find a good place to set down his boxes so that wouldn’t block the hallway Sam thought he would take the initiative and retrieve the keys with his already freed hand. Only when he felt an ass clench in surprise from inside of the back pocket did he realize that this wasn’t his brother or his father he was dealing with. He was with a stranger. He was groping the stranger. And wow can that stranger’s face go red at an alarming speed. He fingered the keys quickly and retrieved his hand, giving a quick quip about how to tell the difference between the outside key and the inside key, before letting them into the room. He very specifically didn’t notice how the other now carried his boxes lower against his body.

He set his box on the bed and the other followed suit. The bed frame was raised about three feet off the ground to allow for under-bed storage. It held an x-long twin mattress that was nearly impossible to find sheets for and four short posts that were just inconvenient enough for Sam to accidentally whack the side of his head on when testing the length of the bed. The room was furnished with a sturdy wooden desk with two drawers, a closet with one shelf, and a chest of drawers that stood tall with deep inserts. Sam was able to fit all of his folding clothes into the top two without much of a problem.

“So, next load?” Sam asked, thumb to the door.

“Have you already moved in?” 312 shifted the boxes so they all sat in a neat row and then stood completely still to look at Sam. Sam shifted in an unconscious effort to make up for the lack of movement.

“Yeah, my brother Dean helped me in when he dropped me off. He had to get to work so he moved me out pretty quickly.”

“Oh.” 312 seemed to be cataloging the information as he stared just to the left of Sam. Sam let him and waited for a reply. “Well, I would very much appreciate the help. Thank you.”

Sam held out his hand, realizing that he never actually introduced himself. “I’m Sam, by the way. Sam Winchester.” The grip he received was stronger than he was expecting and his arm twitched in reply.

“Castiel Novak.”

 

~*~

Move-in weekend was relatively successful for the men at Dorm 310. Ash, the skinny Computer Programming major with a mullet at 313, had a surprising amount of electronics including three computers, a projector for the living room, and, thankfully, a microwave. Garth, the dorky but well-meaning Child Psychologist-to-be in 314, had managed to convince his parents that a food plan was necessary for his survival and had brought home leftovers from the school cafeteria after every meal, much to Sam’s benefit. Castiel, a World Historian, had managed to fit all of his linguistic books onto a bookshelf he brought and told Sam that of course he was welcomed to thumb through them, happy to have found someone his age who not only refrained from taunting his language fascination, but also shared his hobby.

That Monday Sam found his Calculus class with the ease of someone who mapped out his classes with his roommate the night prior. He was beginning to get used to Cas’s quirks; how he talked a bit too formally to his peers, his insistence on wearing oxfords and sweater vests even in the heat, and even his startling ability to appear in Sam’s doorway without being heard. He never crossed the threshold without explicit permission so Sam wasn’t too bothered, but he still wished there was some sort of auditory warning that came with his presence. His computer screen _did_ face the doorway, after all, and although he didn’t expect to browse while his door was open, the possibility of the timid Castiel walking in on Busty Asian Beauties was enough to make him wary of the guy’s presence.

Cas and Sam had walked through their schedules to get a hang of their routes. On his Monday/Wednesday/Friday block Sam was lucky enough to have only ten minutes between each of his three classes. He saw the compact schedule as efficient since there wouldn’t be any large breaks for him to have to entertain himself on campus during. Calculus in Breyer’s Hall was first, his math credit, then Geology at Petterson’s ten minutes later which Cas also took, and then his first of many law classes to come; Intro to Law in Hamilton Court.

In Calculus he chose a seat near the back center. He was used to the usual quips about his height and how other students couldn’t see over him. Throughout his school career he had learned to just take the backmost seat and squint to see the board. He took out a fresh notebook and a new mechanical pencil and settled himself in for the official start to his first college class.

Students trickled in, eager faces with large bags towards the front and relaxed bodies with laptop screens nearer the back. A head of long, dark, wavy hair settled into the seat in front of him, her dirty blonde friend to the right of her. They had the same type of laptop and both opened their screens to some social media site. Sam made the note to bring his own laptop to class from then on.

The professor arrived after the ten o’clock class time which didn’t seem to alarm anyone so Sam kept any tardiness comments to himself. This was college, it operated on unfamiliar rules and the last thing he wanted was to draw negative attention to himself. The syllabus was handed out and the older man spent the entire class time reviewing the rules of the classroom and what they should expect to learn throughout the year. An attendance sheet was nudged against Sam’s right arm which he signed and passed forward. The girl in front of him turned to receive it and Sam was actually _struck_ by how pretty she was.

Her hair parted down the middle, framing a petite face with eyes that were outlined by an enticing amount of some sort of dark eye makeup. Her cheeks were a light pink against pale skin and her lip gloss made her lips look enticingly _wet._ Sam tried to be polite enough not to imagine those lips around a certain part of his interested anatomy, but it was a natural male reaction and her lips puckered a bit as she opened and closed her mouth right then to taunt him further.

“Excuse me?” he asked stupidly, realizing too late that she had been talking to him. Her blonde friend turned to look at him as well.

“Your pencil?” the first asked again. “For the attendance? I only brought my laptop?”

Sam recognized the sass that came with having to repeat an easy question and handed his pencil over with an apologetic smile. She turned quickly to write her own name and set the pencil back in his still outstretched hand. “Thank you, Sam.”

She knew his name. His face must have betrayed his confusion, she tilted the attendance up so he could see his own name. _Sam Winchester_. Right. His name. Underneath his quick scrawl was the name _Ruby Cortese._ Well, he could be smooth as well.

“Thank _you_ , Ruby,” he said as he flashed his flirtiest smile. Sam knew he wasn’t bad looking, his longer hair gave off a certain boyish charm that girls liked. Plus he worked out. They usually liked that too. He thought he had nailed the line, flirty girls eating out of his hand, before they turned to each other and started laughing.

He realized too late that he had basically thanked her for using his pencil. Good job, smooth talker.

~*~

6:00am Tuesday morning came much too early to Sam Winchester. He snoozed his alarm yet again, now fifteen minutes after the first round of “Heat of the Moment” startled him to consciousness. He had been up all night talking with Cas about their Monday classes and what they could expect from their shared Geology course. Sam had excused himself around 1:00am when he realized that his three hour long Latin 1 class would be starting in six hours.

He arrived with only half a minute to spare, finding a seat in the back on the left side. All of the students seemed to be universally regretting their decision to take a dead language so early in the morning, some still sporting their pajamas and one even huddled in her blanket. The professor handed out his syllabus as more students trickled in. One guy in particular caught nearly everyone’s attention.

He strolled in nine minutes late, much to the disdain of the professor who had started calling roll, but with an easy smile and a whispered “sorry, Prof” he took a seat on the far right of the classroom, near the door. Excited whispers and scoffs rose from the students at the newcomer, clad in a light pink wife-beater and the loudest green and pink striped silk pajama pants Sam had ever seen. He settled himself easily into the desk, leaning back and letting his legs lay open as the girl in front of him passed back an extra copy of the syllabus. He didn’t bother to glance at the sheet, but instead looked around at the other students. He caught Sam’s eye but Sam must have imagined the single raised eyebrow.

“Spite, Gabriel?” the professor continued, now nearing the end of his list.

“There’s no _spite_ here, Prof,” the boy replied, breaking the brief eye contact he held with Sam. “It’s pronounced _Speight_. Like, straight. Ironic really, considering.” Sam really didn’t imagine the wink. He _winked_ at him from across the classroom! The professor jotted a pronunciation note next to the name and continued his list.

“Winchester, Samuel?” sounded after a few more names.

“I go by ‘Sam’,” he corrected. The professor wrote another note before closing the book and taking his own copy of the syllabus from the remaining few.

“Well then everybody, welcome to Latin 1.” The professor read through the syllabus with the class, focusing strongly on the fact that it “wasn’t his idea” to teach a three-hour class so early on Tuesday mornings but that he could only afford to teach one day out of the week and Latin 1 had the least amount of interested students to annoy. To no one’s surprise, knowing the reasoning behind their early rise didn’t make anyone in the class any more awake.  The rest of the period was spent on activities in pronunciation which were interesting enough to hold Sam’s attention, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling of golden eyes watching him from across the classroom.

~*~

He had a two hour long break between Latin and Folk Lore that he spent doing the things he forgot to do before running out of the door in the morning. A long shower calmed his nerves after his much too-long lecture, letting his mind wander over the petite Ruby that he obviously blew any and all chances with.

He slowly stroked himself hard thinking about wet lips and big dark eyes; warm, wet suction encompassing him and gentle moans vibrating around his cock. He closed his eyes, leaning his back against the shower wall, and pumped faster as Ruby’s eyes closed and her moans sounded louder in his head. As he got himself closer and closer to climax her feminine wails started to mimic the pronunciation activities he had learned in class that morning. The thought bordered on dangerous masturbation territory and he slowed down his speed, willing the image of the girl away and focusing strictly on the feeling of his own hand on himself. If he saw a bit of gold in her eyes before he let her go completely it was purely coincidental.

~*~

Refreshed and recharged he headed to Folk Lore with a new vigor. All of his other classes filled some purpose in furthering his academic career: Calculus, Geology, Latin, and English suited his core Math, Science, Language, and English credits and Intro into Law was the prerequisite for all other Pre-Law classes. Folk Lore could technically be used as his Humanities credit but honestly, he had just found the course description interesting and thought he would enjoy a fun class amidst his required ones.

He opened the classroom door to the backside view of a guy sitting on top of his desk. Five other people gathered around in front of him, listening in earnest to what he had to say. Sam recognized his voice before he even saw the peak of pink and green stripes below the light pink tank. The small crowd erupted with laughter as Gabriel held up his hands to quiet them down.

“No! No! Shh! The best part! The best part!” He was obviously enjoying the reaction, but he still tried to continue. Sam hung back near the door, trying not to disturb, as the smaller man talked. “The next day he came in and—I shit you not—he told everyone it was _aliens._ He,” Gabriel finally buckled over and started laughing heartily. “He thought _aliens had abducted him can you believe that?!”_

As the group erupted louder than ever Sam took the opportunity to grab a seat at the back on the opposite side. Unfortunately, as he passed the group a pair of golden eyes had turned and caught him.

“Why _hello_ , Sammy.” Gabriel looked like he had received an unexpected gift, his toothless smile predatory. “Come over here and sit next to me.” He slid off the top of the desk and into the seat with the grace of a cat, leaning over to tap the desk on his right with his palm. The rest of the group looked above Gabriel to Sam and he had no choice but to sit where he was motioned to. He felt uncomfortable. Where he sat, in the middle of the class, meant that there were seats behind him, which jarred him now that he was so used to taking the last of the row. But even more so uncomfortable was the face to his left that watched him as he unpacked his laptop and opened a new Word document for notes. The others in the group had carried on in conversation, but Gabriel stayed interested in the newcomer.

“So, Sammy-boy, you following me from class to class now?”Gabriel propped his elbows up on the bit of his desk that separated them. He rested his chin gently on interlocked fingers and waited for a reply.

“I prefer ‘Sam’.” Sam looked away from his screen and assessed the guy. Usually his friends weren’t so….brash. He was used to strong personalities like his brother’s, but when he had the chance to make friends before changing schools again they had always been timid and well-mannered, much more like Cas than Dean. Gabriel gave off a Dean vibe. The life of the classroom already, though Sam assumed that the older boy had met the others in classes previously and they had been catching up on summer shenanigans. Still, Gabriel talked to him as he had seen Dean talk to any girl who would listen, a spoonful of honey beckoning flies to its trap.

No doubt Sam only caught his attention because he was a shiny new person to mess with and Sam knew he’d move on to the next sap eventually like Dean always did. Still, a friend in class always had its benefits. If he had to miss a class or two he’d be able to call and get notes easily and near the end of the semester it would help to have someone who he could study with for exams. Even if Gabriel wasn’t the usual type of guy he would hang out with, it would still be a good idea for him to make friends.

“Sure thing, Sam-a-lam,” Gabriel winked. Sam was no stranger to being teased so he let it slide. “So do I have my own undercover FBI tail or something? Is this about the caramels thing? I swear he was like that when I got there, honest.”

“I’m not in the FBI.”

“Oh, too bad,” Gabriel huffed as he shifted to sit facing forward in his seat. Maybe Sam overestimated how long he would be able to keep his interest, at this rate he’d be back to ignored by the end of class. “I would have liked to go under covers with you.”

Sam thought he didn’t hear it correctly until Gabriel snorted at his own joke. It was almost exactly like dealing with his flirt-with-anything-that-moves brother. “Gabriel…” he warned. The name felt strange to say aloud.

“You can call me Gabe, Babe,” and with that, Sam made an unexpected new friend.


	2. Backgrounds and Foregrounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cas open up to each other

 

When Dean had dropped Sam off on campus he left him with one hundred dollars and zero car. The hundred was to help him during the weeks it would take for the scholarship money to be reimbursed to his bank account and the car was deemed ‘unnecessary’ since he lived on campus. Unfortunately for him, the closest grocery store didn’t. Fortunately for him, Cas’s parents left him much better off, a classic 1964 light blue Mustang in tow.

When Sam tagged along on various errands and shopping trips with Cas he was always surprised at the eclectic taste in music the boy had. Maybe it was bias, considering Sam’s classic rock upbringing, but he didn’t think many guys their age listened to much opera or…. gargles?

“Tibetan throat singing,” Cas had corrected. Oh, _obviously_. Sam didn’t mind too much though, the low droning sounds helped him meditate better than songs with English words in them did. Like a palette cleanser, it was a calming noise that distracted from the clutter of everything else and allowed him to think. It was probably the reason that Sam liked driving with Cas so much, or maybe it was the strange misplaced feeling of _home_ that he felt in the passenger’s seat of a classic car.

He was pulled out of the serene feeling by a song he recognized. “Elvis?”

“Do you have a problem with the King of Rock?” Cas asked, face still forward, challenging smile just a small curl of his lips.

“No, I can dig Elvis.” Sam leaned back against the seat and hummed along softly. “I kinda grew up on rock. Not Elvis, no, but Metallica and Deep Purple and Van Halen. My brother still only listens to the classics.” Sam let the thought trail off as always when he mentioned something personal. He realized that his and Cas’s relationship was based more on what was happening in the present than what had happened in the past. He didn’t mind, really, mostly because it was hard to admit to a stranger that he didn’t have a happy pie-crust American Dream upbringing. For him, it had been motels and the backseat of the Impala for as long as he could remember and there might be a little bit of shame hidden between those sheets.

“You have siblings?” Cas surprised him with the question. It was an invitation to talk about themselves in a way neither party had done before. Personal lives and tragic pasts stayed under the rug. They always had for Sam, but he was starting to trust Cas in a way he previously hadn’t been allowed to trust an outsider before. With the constant fear of moving looming over his head, he was always withdrawn in classes, avoiding the topic whenever it was raised. Maybe the security of college helped Sam trust and rely on other people more like civilians did. After all, he felt that if anyone would accept him, Cas would.

“I’ve got one—the older brother I told you helped me move in? He lives around here.” Dean had promised to visit, but his first week was ending soon and he hadn’t seen any sight of him. He was probably busy working in the auto shop. When Sam settled down Dean had too, to try to keep an eye on him he guessed. Not like there was much trouble to be had at a university more than ‘we’re out of solo cups!’ and ‘do I wear real clothes or pajamas to my morning class?’. Still, Dean felt he was his responsibility so Sam let him take up residence about ten miles away near Singer Auto. Bobby Singer was one of John’s best resources when he was active but he retired early to focus on cars. Most people retired early from the job, but John Winchester was not most people. “Growing up, it was just my dad, my brother, and myself.”

Cas nodded, as if to say he understood, and Sam took it as an invitation to continue. “We uh…..travelled a lot. I was born here in Kansas but I don’t remember the house we had. My mom….. she died when I was six months old.”

“Condolences.”

“Thanks, but like I said, don’t really remember her. It was a fire—some arsonist. They had targeted homes around the city before they got to ours but Mom was the only fatality. The fires stopped afterwards.” The article he read once from Dad’s journal said she died trying to rescue Sam. Trapped in the wreckage. The firemen found her under a collapsed part of the ceiling. John hadn’t even thought to check the burning heap when he ran into the room to save Sam himself. He found his own forgiveness every night at the bottom of a bottle.

“Did they….” Cas tasted the sentence, as if deciding if it was appropriate, “catch the arsonist?”

“No. The case went cold on my eleventh birthday.” Ten and a half years without identifying evidence was too long for the detectives in charge of the case, they received the call in the afternoon and, at 15, Dean had stolen the Impala within minutes. They spent the night parked under a tree in Kentucky.

“My dad was”—an alcoholic—“a private investigator. Completely freelance. He studied up and took jobs where he could find them. Big jobs don’t happen often enough in the same place so he’d rely on word of mouth and suspicious circumstances he would read about in news articles. Whenever he found a case he took it. Wherever it was, he constantly chased false leads in hopes of bringing justice to the guy that killed his wife.”

It sounded heroic and manly, but truthfully Sam thought it was pathetic. The obsession with the death of his wife drove John to cart his boys across the country with him in his thirst for vengeance. The fire claimed four lives in the end. The Winchester name was known throughout the country by lawmen and villain alike. They had several potentially fatal run-ins with both sides, usually due to a disagreement in the questionable legality of some of John’s methods. Things got bad enough for Bobby to realize that he wanted out of the life and he offered the boys a way out as well.

“Did you live in your car?” Cas didn’t sound horrified or pitying, he sounded almost academic. It was as if Sam was a case file to be documented. The thought helped Sam separate emotion from fact, as if he was displaced from his own life and studying it from the outside as well.

“Some nights. The driving nights. Mostly we just hopped from cheap motel to cheap motel. If it was a case that would last a couple of weeks we’d stay in one of the by-the-week hotels. You know them? If we were lucky Dad would know someone in the area and we would stay with them. The couches were never comfortable but never underestimate the power of a heater, right?”

Cas looked a bit paler and Sam realized too late that it was a lot of information to be giving someone, even someone he considered a friend. Well, obviously this was a bit much to drop on anyone all at once, especially someone like Cas who had new clothes and a newly remodeled classic car, and a house to go home to. He never had to experience the bone-chill of a broken motel heater in January. He never wore his entire closet to sleep, his brother holding him until his teeth stopped chattering and his lips turned back to pink. He probably had food every night, maybe even three full meals a day. A loving father.

“Yeah,” Sam coughed, hurry to finish and shift the subject. “I did the school thing whenever we were in a place long enough, got a scholarship, and here we are. What about you, do you have siblings?”

“Oh yes.” Castiel seemed lost in thought. Sam nodded, asking him to continue. “Several hundred, I think.”

“Hundred?!”

Castiel smiled and lifted his head a little. “I am a child of the system. I have been in many foster homes and orphanages throughout my life.” Sam tensed a little, reevaluating everything he knew about the boy. Cas continued, “Novak is only the most recent of at least four last names I’ve had.”

“Have you….Did you know your parents?”

Cas shook his head slowly. “I was brought to the orphanage young. There were a lot of us there and I do consider them my family. I stay in contact with a few of them still, email usually, but it’s difficult for them to get a turn on the computer so I’ve lost contact with some of them.” Cas frowned a little at that, maybe thinking back to the time when he himself had to fight for rights to the computer, to stay in contact with the lucky kids who had been given homes, desperate to hear about his potentially happy ending.

“The Novaks weren’t the first to adopt me. There were others throughout my life who tried. I wasn’t an easy child to love, I guess. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone outside of the orphanage until I was much older.”

Cas huffed a bit and it almost sounded like a laugh. “Imagine me as a kid; obsessed with language but refusing to use it.

“Multiple doctors examined me of course, said one thing or another was wrong with my head, but it wasn’t. I think I was so afraid of saying the wrong thing and having my family hate me that I just stopped talking altogether to make sure I didn’t.”

That froze Sam. Whatever bad thing happened, whatever wrong Dad did or whichever drug cartel showed up at their motel room door, he still had Dean. John loved him too, whether or not he showed it the right way, and whatever argument Sam had with his father he was never in danger of being tossed away or completely alone in the world. His family was tough, it bound Sam to his best friend and his worst enemy, but it at least kept him from being completely alone.

Cas must have noticed Sam’s discomfort because he stopped talking. Had he always done that? Had Sam really not noticed Cas’s silence whenever it followed a strong or important statement? Was he really, all this time, waiting for his word to be the final word that pushed Sam towards rejecting him? Sam’s hand reached across the space between the two and grabbed Cas’s rolled sleeve. He didn’t think to do it, he just did, and Cas exhaled like he was coming back to Earth. “Please, continue.”

Cas nodded. “I am one of the five children that the Novaks adopted. I have two older adoptive siblings and two younger. We are all exactly three years apart; a coincidence, they say, but I’m sure there is some reason behind it. Mother and Father are very….proper.” Sam’s body jerked a little. He was well practiced in the art of carefully picking his words.

“So…. was a history major your idea or theirs?” Sam asked, legitimately curious now.

“Oh definitely mine,” Cas smiled. “I’m a rebel, I guess. Zachariah and Naomi are important business people who busy themselves doing important business things. I would rather work with young adults so teaching is where my passion lies. I think Mother and Father would have put up a greater fight if they weren’t always so distracted by Samandriel and Anna. Samandriel got his first job recently, in _food service_.” Cas took a second to chuckle. “He didn’t need the extra cash, just wanted the experience of working for what he earned. The parents were outraged that he applied without asking. A _proper Novak_ selling weenies to the lower middle class. I actually think this car was a bribe to make sure I didn’t pull a similar stunt.” He caressed the dashboard for a second during a red light before placing his hands back to ten-and-two.

“I think I would like to, though.” Cas looked like his mind was somewhere far away.

“You want to sell weenies?” Sam joked. Cas shook his head slightly.

“I want to live. I want to rebel a little. I want to do what I have always seen in movies. Do you know what I am talking about?” Cas took half a second to search Sam’s face, hoping to find some sort of understanding there.

“Typical college movie tropes?” Sam wondered aloud. There weren’t many times Sam and Dean had cable, but they managed to catch a movie every now and then. “You mean the whole toga party, frat house, club hopping, bar crawling, drinking games deal?” Cas nodded.

“Exactly. I want to make sure that I have the full college experience. I want to do everything that I won’t do in the real world. I want to have the typical every-person experience; one-night stands, three AM trips to Taco Bell, maybe even weed.”

“The typical every-person experience, hunh?” Sam and Cas both saw the truth. Their lives were two different sides of the same abnormal, the boy with the family that he was tethered to and the boy with no connections to anybody. They both came to the university to find the sense of normalcy that they had been denied growing up and neither had been willing to admit it.

This was their chance though, to start over. It was their last chance to make the big mistakes before they were thrown into the real world and left to fend for themselves. Cas was right, if they were going to be normal they had better go all out.

“Let’s do it.”


	3. Flirting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to [Vivienne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivienne) who was kind enough to slap my wrists on a bunch of grammar mistakes I tend to make.  
> I know it's three dots.............. my finger just twitches a lot.

Sam survived his first week well enough. Although he wasn’t actively looking for a romantic relationship, he still felt like he had a couple of prospects in his classes. Like the mousey girl in his English class, Becky. She was cute in the dorky way and more than eager enough to help him edit his papers before turning them in. She was a bit overbearing for his usual tastes, but he still flirted with her a little bit for fun.

With the amount of people from all different majors herded in the same general ed classes like cattle, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t see most of these girls ever again after the semester ended, so he let loose a little bit. He let his hand linger too long when he handed back a worksheet on contract writing to the girl behind him in Intro to Law.  He got a stare from Cas in Geology when he leaned forward a little to give the girl on the other side of him a raised eyebrow and a smirk at her question of how hard a particular mineral was. He even started giving Gabriel a bit of his own back to him, insinuating that his “gigantor” jokes were true—in all aspects. Even when they had talked about methods of prayer in Folklore:

“If I was a god I’d definitely have all of the bitches kneeling for me.” Gabriel did his little eyebrow wiggle at Sam, like he did whenever he was trying to start something.

“They would have to, wouldn’t they? To see you all the way down there?” For every tall joke there was an equal but opposite short joke.

“Oh harharhar, Samsquatch. You’d totally kneel in front of my great presence.”

“You want me on my knees in front of you?”  Sam asked in a quiet voice. He might have even bitten his lower lip and looked up at Gabriel through his bangs in what he hoped was seductive look. Girls pulled that trick with him all the time. Gabe’s hands clenched his desk for half a second.

“Straight men are cruel.”

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t happen anyways.” Sam sat back upright in his chair, pushing the hair out of his face, almost like he was flaunting his size. “If I was kneeling it would definitely be  _behind_  you. And you’d be on all fours, taking it like the total bitch you are.”

Gabe just stared at him, mouth a little open, breath caught in his throat. Sam thought he had taken it too far when the shorter man closed his eyes and groaned, “So cruel.” Sam laughed victoriously.

The one person Sam had completely given up on pursuing was the brunette that sat in front of him three days a week in Calculus. Ruby was graceful and beautiful and completely uninterested. At least, that was what Sam had thought before she turned around and asked if he’d like to go to the library with her on Friday.

“The library?”

“Yes, the Library. On 50th Street? You know it, right?”

Sam actually hadn’t taken a trip out to the public library yet so he shook his head a bit. “I know of it, but I don’t have a car on campus.”

“Oh that’s fine, we’re carpooling anyways. You can hop a ride with Meg and me.” She nodded towards her friend to the right of her with the short blonde hair. Meg and Sam did the awkward acknowledgement nod to each other before focusing back to Ruby.

“That’ll work.”

“Okay, then we’ll pick you up… What time sounds good to you Meg?”

“Nine in Lot A?” Nine AM was pushing it for Sam, especially since the three of them would have to be back in Calculus at ten AM so they couldn’t possibly get any work done. Before he could say so, Ruby replied.

“Nine sounds good. Gives us time after class to get ready.You good with nine, Sam?”

“Yeah, totally.” Late night studying wasn’t unheard of to Sam, but he would never understand the female desire to dress up for every occasion. Or, maybe this was a special case. Maybe even, a special case for him. “Nine PM Friday, Parking Lot A, near the bus stop?” Sam repeated the information just in case. Ruby and Meg both nodded.

“Wear something nice.” With that, Ruby turned back around and ignored him the rest of class. Sam looked down at what he was already wearing. He knew that his plaid button-up wasn’t necessarily stylish or anything, but he didn’t think it was something so unacceptable that he couldn’t wear it to a library. Obviously he liked it, he had nearly nothing else in his closet. Lucky for him he already understood the lesson for the day, Sam had already left Wednesday behind in favor of what would be happening Friday.

~*~

“So when’s our date?” Gabe rested his chin on the palm of his hand and gave Sam the most ridiculous looking eyelash flutter he had ever seen.

They had been warned to start their paired projects early for Folklore which had resulted in a massive scrambling for partners. Gabriel claimed Sam as his almost immediately. “I get this one. Go find your own geniuses,” he had announced, his hand circled halfway around Sam’s wrist. To be honest, Sam would have liked a partner with a little more in the breast department, but Gabe was entertaining enough and if Sam was going to do all of the work anyways he may as well have fun with it.

“I was thinking dinner and a movie tomorrow night,” Gabe continued, staring dreamily off into some sort of fantasy future. “You, me, a box of condoms, and a bottle of lube…”

“Although that sounds _incredibly enticing_ , I can’t on Friday.”

“What could you possibly have planned that is better than _moi_?”

“I’ve got a study date, actually,” Sam smiled. It was still a date in his mind, with a pretty girl he was very much interested in and her friend who fit somewhere into the equation as well, some nights. “We’re going to the public library.”

“God, what a snoozefest,” Gabriel made a big show of yawning and stretching back like he wasn’t bothered by it, but Sam can sense something was wrong. “I guess I’m lucky to have you taken off my hands, frees up my Friday evening.”

“Oh yes, I would hate to hold you back.”

“You definitely would be too.”

 “Well, we still have to meet to work on this project… What’s your schedule like?” Sam felt the urgent need to talk about something other than Friday. Whatever this was, it was dangerous territory to be treading, he could tell.

“I’m only on campus Tuesdays and Thursdays, actually. I work the rest of the week. As you know, I’ve got Folklore and Latin on Tuesdays; those are my ‘Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Sam’ days.” Sam rolled his eyes at how ridiculous Gabe’s nicknames for him had gotten. Gabe smiled like he had succeeded. “On Thursdays I’ve got class from noon to eight, so best not do anything then.”

“Well, it seems like the best time might be between Latin and this class.” Sam had filled his two hour free time slot by taking a nap or showering and eating but it really did seem the best option. Gabriel nodded his agreement.

“Just can’t get enough of me on Tuesdays, can you kiddo?”

“Obviously not.” Sam replied sarcastically.

That seemed good enough for Gabe who reached into his bag and pulled out a Twizzler. As he munched on the little red cord he hummed happily. Sam thought it was just natural that it made him happy as well.

~*~

“You want to borrow clothes from me?” Cas looked as awkward as Sam felt standing in his doorway Friday afternoon.

“Just a shirt, I think. Something nice?" Cas was a little smaller than he was, but the quality of what he wore everyday surpassed even Sam’s best shirts—the ones he wore when he pretended to be FBI on jobs with his dad. He thought that maybe he could borrow one for the night and have it dry-cleaned before returning it, but maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea.

“For the library?” Okay yeah, it sounded stupid to Sam too, but he nodded.

“I think it may be a date?” Cas seemed to understand that, motioning Sam to come further into his room so he could have a look at the closet.

“I have a couple of shirts that are large on me, although they are all approximately my length. I’m sure that if you roll up the sleeves no one will notice.” Cas shifted some shirts and slacks out of the way to reach the lesser worn ones in the back. He pulled out a black shirt and held it up against Sam’s frame. “This might be the best option, it’s the largest I have.” He pulled the sides of the shirt to match under Sam’s armpits to see if it was wide enough for his torso. Then told Sam to turn around and measured the top of the shirt against Sam’s shoulders. “You are a difficult size. If it fits you can keep it.”

Sam decided that it would be best just to try it on there than it would be to lose the expensive shirt in the pile of plaid he hadn’t washed yet. “Do you mind?” he asked. Cas replied to the negative so Sam started unbuttoning his plaid.

Cas was right about his difficult size, Sam's shoulder-to-waist ratio was unnatural for a guy his height. Finding clothes that fit him wasn’t just hard, it was nearly impossible. Cas had gone back to looking in his closet as soon as the first button came undone. Sam had a feeling that private schools must not have large locker rooms, Cas almost looked embarrassed for a second there.

When he got it on, he moved his arms and stretched a bit to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally Hulk out. It fit decently around his chest, baggy around his waist (as to be expected), and he couldn’t really close his arms yet, but it would do.

“Cas, could you help me with these sleeves?” They were too tight around the elbow and fell a good three inches short of his wrists, a depressingly common occurrence for normal sized shirts, and Cas smiled a little when he turned around.

“I never realized how much larger you are,” Cas ventured, helping Sam out by carefully rolling up the first sleeve. He made sure there weren’t any unnecessary wrinkles and Sam was secretly thankful for the effort.

“Well, I never realize how short everyone else is either, to be honest.” Wait, why hadn’t he? “I guess I never needed to borrow someone’s clothes before.” Or he never had someone to borrow from. Dean had long arms and a wide torso like him so they could trade clothes easily. If anything, the only size problems they had were from before Sam hit puberty back when all of Dean’s hand-me-downs were too big for him.

“I stayed in the orphanage a long time.” Cas finished one arm and moved to the other. Sam shifted to allow him better access. “Near the end of my time there I was the largest one. You may not know this, viewing the world from up there, but six feet  _is_  tall for a man.”

“If you say so…” Sam smiled. He really didn’t have any perception as to what normal height was supposed to be. Cas finished the last sleeve and took a step back. “How does it look?”

“Tuck it in to some nice jeans and you should be good.” Cas nodded for Sam to look in the large mirror over the sink area. Cas was right, it should work for the evening. The shirt was obviously quality and it didn’t look nearly as wide around the waist as it felt. No, this was definitely date shirt material and he definitely owed Cas one for letting him borrow it.

“You know, you can come if you want?” Even if there wasn’t room in the car, Cas had his own and the two of them could follow the girls there separately. “She has a friend, Meg, who’s actually pretty hot. We can introduce you?”

Cas declined politely. “You should enjoy yourself. I was hoping to find an auto place this afternoon before they all close up for the night. The car needs an oil change and the places around here will most likely get very busy over the weekend.”

“I can actually help you there.” Dean’s place was open pretty late for an auto shop and their prices were affordable all around. “Singer Auto. I’m not sure exactly where it is, but it’s close by. I know them and they do good work.”

“Singer Auto,” Cas repeated. “I will look it up on Google. Thank you, Sam.”

Sam gestured to his shirt. “Thank  _you_  Cas.”

“Good luck tonight.”

“You too, buddy.”

And with that, Sam was ready for his date. Albeit five hours early.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't get the update, Cas's trip to the mechanic's is here: [Tune Up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/963008)


	4. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam studies math and anatomy at The Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will like to have thanked [Vivienne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivienne) who had find a lot of conflicted tenses.
> 
> Thanking you.
> 
> (and if I had $1 for every "$" I wasn't allowed to use I would have $5.)

Meg’s truck smelled like vomit. It was a brand new never-driven 2002 Dodge Ram with four doors and people had definitely thrown up in it recently. It wasn’t even 2002 yet.

“My dad’s ride,” Meg had said, gesturing a little at Sam to get his attention. Ruby sat in the middle of the back seat. “He said that I could borrow it so Ruby wouldn’t have to climb into the back.”

Sam had offered Ruby the front seat knowing full well that he and Meg weren’t likely to keep up friendly conversation. Ruby politely declined, hopping out of the passenger’s seat with a few comments about how much more leg space there was up front and how she wanted him to be comfortable. With half of his life spent in the backseat of a much smaller car he had plenty of room to argue, but stories of his homeless childhood were not the quickest way to a woman’s heart. He gave inand took the seat, letting Ruby shimmy her way back up into the cab.

She really did have to shimmy too. Although he appreciated the belt-wide material that hugged her ass, Sam saw tactical disadvantages in the restrictedleg movement. Not that she was getting far with those spiked heels, though they could possibly be used as weapons if she stood to fight. Sam shook his head clear. He shouldn’t be thinking of fight tactics and makeshift weapons he’d be able to use in case of danger; he should be like every other teenage boy and focus his attentions on his pretty dates and their low cut shirts that hung loosely and swung fromside to side tauntingly.

The only things in Sam’s small messenger bag were a notebook, a pencil and his favourite hunting knife. Although he didn’t expect much trouble at the library, he took it with him whenever he expected to be out at night. Darkness breeds trouble. Darkness and skirts that looked more like belts.

“Here we are!” Ruby announced, grabbing her tiny purse. Sam had been horribly mistaken.

The bass vibrations rattled the floor of the truck, even from the parking lot. A line of people stood outside a building, waiting to enter a door that, when opened, emitted a blue light into the darkness of the street. The building itself was black and windowless and stood at least three stories tall. In cool blue letters above the door: “The Library.”

Sam had a brief moment where he replayed every instance, every second of their earlier conversation. Had she said the word ‘study’? Had she mentioned Calculus at all? Was he really this naïve?

Acting as rationally as he could manage, he leaned over his bag and blocked it from view as he strapped the holster of his knife’s sheath to his calf. Luckily he had stashed his fake ID in the holster’s pocket after the last job with John and he studied it to relearn the license’s identity. He also quickly undid the top couple of buttons on his shirt, untucked it from his pants, and messed up his hair a little with his fingers. Club worthy? Maybe not, but it would have to do.

“Not bringing your purse?” Meg taunted as he stood up out of the cab, leaving his bag in the seat.

“Who brings a bag to a club?” he replied coolly. “Shall we?” He gently placed an arm around Ruby’s waist and she let him guide her to the back of the line.

~*~

After two weeks of grocery shopping, Sam considered himself lucky to still have the twenty-three dollars that he had on him. But they were the only twenty-three dollars he had to his name at the moment, and he was stuck in this wonderfully horrific place where he was socially obligated to buy Ruby a drink – but those eight dollars could buy four packs of four servings of ramen. That’d be sixteen meals for the price of that pretty little green drink she was eyeing. Who knew he’d be studying math afterall?

Luckily, she paid for it herself. Or was it unlucky, since it could mean she wasn’t interested in him? He ordered himself a Budweiser and planned to nurse it for a while, hoping no one would notice that he wasn’t getting refills. Twenty dollars to his name now. He turned around at the bar and really took a look at his surroundings.

The entrance opened up to the longest edge of the bar. To the left of it was a large cleared area where people were dancing and grinding against each other. Above the dance floor, around the corner of the bar, was a large balcony area overlooking the lower level, also full of dancers. The DJ had his own part of the second floor that had been roped off from the crowd. On the bottom floor there were three poles on individual stages. Two had multiple girls on them, rubbing against the pole and each other to the amusement of their dates. The last pole had someone more experienced on it, bending and spinning around expertly. Sam watched men slip her some ones and took a sip of his drink.

“Ready to get out there?” Ruby asked, nudging him in the elbow.

“Come on come on come on! I think I see Azazel!” Meg grabbed excitedly at Ruby, leading her towards a guy who was waving at them. A moving light struck him at an odd angle and Sam swore his eyes shone yellow.

They paired off easily, Meg dancing onAzazel and Sam with Ruby. Ruby had an intensity to her that captured attention in the crowded room. She faced him, holding his shoulders and positioning him however she wanted. He let her, following her rhythm, encompassing her tiny hips in his larger hands as she worked herself up and down his leg. They rocked back and forth for what could have been half an hour before Meg pulled Ruby away to the bathroom. Unwilling to be the other’s replacement partner, the men retreated to the bar.

“So, Sam was it?” Sam nodded. The bartender handed Azazel his drink. “You Greek?” 

“Nah, I was born in Kansas.” Azazel laughed a little bit and it chilled Sam to the bone. He did not like this guy. John taught him to follow his gut and his gut told him that Azazel was definitely bad news.

“No, no, I meant the Greek system. Though, I’m pretty sure if you don’t know the lingo you’re not in a fraternity yet.”

“Oh. Yeah, no. I hadn’t really thought about it.” It was true, he hadn’t.

“Well, when you do think about it, think about pledging Gamma Epsilon Eta. Gamma Epsilon is known throughout the United States for having only the most driven members and I think you’d be a very strong candidate.”

“Gamma Epsilon Eta. Got it.” Sam really didn’t have any desire to be part of the Greek system but he drank the rest of his beer and let the conversation drop. As he set the empty bottle onto the table a small hand rested gently on his. Its owner had straight blonde hair to her shoulders and was thin, wearing a green top with tight jean shorts. Sam thought he recognized her from somewhere…

“Thirsty boy,” she cooed. Her voice was sexier than he had anticipated, low and sultry with a hint of authority. “Azazel, you’re not trying to round up more  _special pledges_  for Gamma Epsilon again, are you?”

“Lucy, I didn’t even see you there.” Azazel’s tone wasfamiliar but annoyed, like Lucy was the last person that he had wanted to see and, now that she was here, his night was ruined. He took a swig of his beer.

“Where’s his manners, honestly.” Lucy’s hand almost slithered over Sam’s as it made its way to his palm. She shook his hand lightly, “Lucy Milton.”

“Sam Winchester.”

“How about I get you a drink, Sam? You should try the house special.” Lucy touched his shoulder before walking over to the side where the bartender was. She had a roll of ones in her hands.

“Don’t.” Azazel cautioned him in aharsh whisper, “Don’t mix with her; she’s practically evil incarnate.”

Sam didn’t know how well he could trust this guy whose voice made Sam’s skin crawl. His presence alone made Sam uncomfortable and he wished he had taken the opportunity to follow Lucy to get drinks. He still paid attention to what Azazel had to say. If being around Lucy meant less Azazel he would follow his gut and pick the pretty girl. “Oh? That bad?”

“Yeah. That bad.”Azazel busied his mouth with his drink when Lucy came back. She handed Sam a dark red drink in a large cup. She had her own bright blue cocktail in a martini glass.

“What’s in it?” Sam took the drink and sniffed it cautiously. It smelled almost like copper.

“Whole bunch of stuff, but it tastes real good, promise,” Lucy took a sip of her own drink and watched him. Sam felt almost like she was testing him. “If you don’t like it I’ll drink the rest and get you another Bud to wash it down, how about that?” Definitely a challenge.

Sam took a cautious sip and rolled it around in his mouth a little bit. It wasn’t a very good flavor, the alcohol taste far outplayed the bit of sweet that was added, but when he swallowed it he could feel the burn of it travel from mouth to the bottom of his throat. He inhaled quickly and the air felt alive and cool over the places the drink had passed. He decided that he liked it, smiled and thankedLucy as she toyed with her own drink.

After only a small amount of polite conversation,– “What’s your major?”, “Where are you from?”, “What year are you?”–Sam started to feel tipsy. He had only had about a third of his drink but he was feeling very distinctly lighter. Lucy smiled real pretty at him and he smiled real pretty back, mirroring her as she lifted her drink and took another sip.

At some point Ruby came back with her blondefriend with the truck. Ruby’s boobs looked really nice on her body. Ruby didn’t look happy when she saw Lucy which is sad because Lucy made Sam pretty happy. She took another sip, looking into Sam’s eyes, and Sam did the same. “I see you’ve met Sam,” Ruby said.

“He’s so much hotter in person,” Lucy replied, licking her lips a little. Sam licked his lips too. “And young. You didn’t mention he was a freshman.”

“You’re a freshman?” Ruby asked Sam urgently. When Sam nodded his head so did Lucy. Or was it the other way around? Lucy was just so hypnotizing that Sam kept looking at her. She smiled so he did too.

“Just a baby.”

Lucy just called Sam a babe. Sam was very sure he was going to have sex with her that night. He wasn’t too drunk to get a least little hard so he did. He wondered how easily he would be able to convince the two girls to have a threesome.

“Oh, well that’s no good.” Lucy’s attentions had turned away from Sam and towards the three stages where some guys were standing and awkwardly humping the poles. “They aren’t even good looking. Sam I’m sure you would give the girls a much better show.”

Sam’s brain skipped a beat and suddenly he was standing on the center of the three small stages. His hand grasped the pole for support. There was a sea of people looking at him, watching him, waiting for him to do something. He forgot what he was supposed to do.

“Sam!” A voice called his name and he looked around for someone he knew. He found Lucy at the edge of the stage twirling her finger around. “Spin!”

Sam turned around in place and people around him laughed. He found that he didn’t mind so much, less concerned about being embarrassed and moreso pleased about making so many people happy.

“USE THE POLE!” A female voice shouted.

Oh yes, the pole. He gripped the pole again and walked around it. He was surprised when the pole moved with him, expecting to feel the drag of skin against stationary metal. More laughter. Some male voices shouted things like “IDIOT!” and “GET OFF THE STAGE!” but Sam didn’t care.

He was losing his traction in his feet a little though and that was getting annoying. It seemed like there was a lot of liquid on the stage. It was red liquid. Oh yes, he had knocked over his drink when he was trying to get up there, of course. It almost looked like blood.

Well, blood wasn’t conducive to walking around the pole. Luckily, Sam was a master of pull-ups and on his next go-around he lifted himself up and over the puddle at the front of the stage as the pole kept turning with his force.

The girls liked that. He did it again.

With hoots and hollers coming from the crowd Sam decided that if he was going to keep doing pull-ups he would need to take off the shirt. It was much too expensive for him to rip on a stripping pole so he stopped spinning and tried to unbutton it. The problem with buttons is that they moved around too damn much. He was having so much of a problem that Lucy had to come onto the stage and help him out. She was a real nice girl. He steadied himself with his left hand still on the pole and his right hand on her shoulder. She smiled and he smiled and she unbuttoned his shirt.

He leaned his head back as she did it, trying to clear his head and getting it out of her way. In response, she ran a long red nail down his throat before continuing with the buttons. He moaned at the feeling. When he was unbuttoned he shrugged the shirt off of his shoulders and gave it to Lucy. “Keep it safe?” He asked. She nodded. He nodded.

When she moved out of the way the females in the audience seemed to collectively gasp. Sam worked out. It used to be part of his training and he had just gotten used to it. The burn of the muscles during, the tightness afterward, the whole experience of working out was addicting to Sam and he fed his addiction almost nightly. Maybe he was just preparing for the day when he would accidentally find himself standing shirtless on a stage with a pole.

That day had come.

Sam didn’t have time to visit strip clubs and learn technique but luckily the girl from earlier had caught his interest. He figured he could maybe recreate some of the twirly-doos she had done. How did they go?

Left arm at his side, right arm higher, he started spinning the pole and used the momentum to fling his body around like a fireman. At this point he was pretty sure the crowd didn’t care what he did as long as he was shirtless. He paused at the pole to let some girls put bills in his pants.

He liked The Library.

He tried some new tricks with every go around, one time he even managed to climb and hang a little upside down by his legs before he slid a little and Ruby and Lucy joined the crowd of girls who shouted “NO!”

He felt like king of the world. His pockets were stuffed and his pole was friendly and he was definitely getting laid tonight but the nagging feeling in the back of his head became more pronounced and more pronounced and suddenly he couldn’t see for small periods of time or move a limb or two. Actually, it became more and more of a problem and he let himself finally slump to the floor of the stage as all of his will to fight it finally left his body.

If he wasn’t so tired he would have been terrified. It wasn’t a usual drunk reaction, it was something much worse. He couldn’t move his fingers or his hands or his arms. Actually, when he thought about it, he couldn’t move much of anything. He felt hopeless, and when someone in his profession felt hopeless it was because Death was closing in. He heard Lucy’s voice nearby, telling someone to help Sam into her car. She didn’t even know where he lived.

“SAM!” A man’s voice broke through the haze in his head. He held on to that voice of concern, somewhere in the crowd. “SAM! _GET AWAY FROM HIM_!”

He could hear people back up as the man got closer. With effort, he lifted Sam off the stage and laid him onto the floor. A blinding light shone in his eyes as they were forced open. It felt an awful lot like being saved.

“Sam, please, can you hear me?” The voice was close to his ear. It sounded so familiar and yet, he didn’t recognize it.

“Yes.”

“Sam, I’m going to take you home. You aren’t doing well. Can you move your legs?”

Sam tried to bend his knee and panicked a little when he couldn’t. “No, no I can’t move. What’s happening? Why?”

“Calm down Sam, it’ll be alright. Bal! Help me out!”

A man with a British accent politely started making his way through the crowd. “Oh God, he’s giant, isn’t he?”

“I’ll be your designated driverfor you for a month if you can help me get him in the car.” The first voice was sounding more and more familiar as the situation became less urgent.

“You’ll owe me _two_ months DD duty for Sasquatch, here.” Sasquatch. That sparked a memory in Sam. Everything was getting darker and further away but he held on to the question. Who was this man?

“Two?! Ugh, fine. Just don’t drop him okay? He gets the first class treatment.” Call him crazy but it almost sounded like—“Hey kiddo, try to stay with me, okay? Need you to tell me how to get you home.”

Gabriel.

Sam blacked out.

 


	5. Saving Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe wanted to drink away his problems; he didn't expect to find them pole-dancing at his club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Vivienne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivienne) for beta-ing this one as well.  
> She does it well.  
> Well, here it is.

Gabriel wasn’t upset, he was disappointed. The offer for dinner and a movie wasn’t completely a joke and he had hoped Sam would at least humor him and come over to his apartment to work on the project. Or, if they were feeling especially bored of the project, they could watch a movie. And if a quick hand job happened under the blanket? Well, Gabe wouldn’t complain.

So yes, it was a little jarring to be denied. And to be denied because he had a date? With a girl? It was like multiple slaps to the face in quick succession. At least it sounded like it would be a lame night for Sam; studying in the library. Was Sam raised in the fifties? If the  _library_  was more enticing than a night with Gabe’s practiced mouth then maybe he was losing his touch.

Then again, it was Gabe’s own fault for falling for the tall, sexy, _straight_ boy. He didn’t usually go for the nerdy kid in the corner, but the more Gabe pushed him the more Sam pushed back. He was interested in this guy who not only took shit from Gabe but manage to give it as well, if not better.  It was Gabe’s bad luck that his most interesting subject this year preferred a hole he didn’t have.

Okay, enough pity time. It was Friday night and he was Gabriel Speight. He didn’t sit around with a pint of ice cream crying over his classmates; he spent his Friday nights in an alcohol-induced bliss, lips stretched, nose pressed against some stranger’s short and curlies. He called up Balthazar and told him to meet him over at The Library in an hour for their usual. The irony of the name was not lost on Gabe, laughing as he finished the pint.

~*~

“So are you going to tell me what happened or are we drinking tonight to forget?” Balthazar greeted Gabe with a hug, patting him on the back and wrapping an arm around his shoulder to lead him to the bar.

“Straight boy problems,” Gabe sighed, signaling for Matt, the bartender, to make their usual.

“Oh that’s an easy fix;just find yourself a replacement boy to blow in the back. I know how much you like the third stall.”

“Well, it’s the only one with elbow room, isn’t it?” Bal nodded his agreement. Having worked the circuit for as long as they had, they both knew the ins and outs of every club and bar around the school. Balthazar was a senior, Gabe a super-senior. Although the party life was fun for the first four years, in his fifth year he was starting to feel like the whole thing was one big routine. Nothing changed anymore, nothing surprised him, nothing except how the freshman class seemed to be getting younger and stupider every year.

“I think I found you a candidate for tonight’s soirée.” Balthazar turned Gabe around to face him towards the stages, the middle of which held a tall, fumbling man with floppy hair.

“Bal.” No. It couldn’t. Gabe must be seeing things, because that was definitely not Sam Winchester shirtless and pole dancing.

Except, it was. Whereas the naked torso was a new and exciting addition to Gabe’s version of Sam, Gabe could recognize that stupid dimpled face anywhere. “Bal that’s him. Bal, that’s him. Bal—”

“Him who?”

“Him who turned down a quickie with me so he could  _study tonight!_ ” Gabriel was furious,  _and for good reason_ he thought. The scholarly boy had turned him down for a lame night amongst books and paper cuts and all around lame things, not for boozing up and strutting himself in front of a room of strangers.

When his drink came up, Gabe downed a good portion of it in one swallow, turning away from Sam and the girls who were shoving bills into his pants. He tried to reason with himself but the plain truth was that he was jealous. Not that he had any claim to Sam, he didn’t brand him with his handprintor write  **‘** _this is mine_ ** _’_** on his ribs, but he felt like they had at least a sort of personal connection. A connection that apparently didn’t matter when exposed to a large female fan-base. Well wasn’t that just the kick in the balls Gabe needed. He finished the rest of his drink, not even tasting it, and got up to leave.

 “Something’s wrong with your boy.”

Sam was slumped over on the stage, people around him prodding him and panicking. Gabe quickly left the bar, elbowing his way through the throng of people and shouting at people to move.

“SAM!” he screamed, trying to get his attention. A large guy and a tiny blonde girl were facing Sam, away from Gabe, planning on how to move him. “SAM!” Still no reply. Something was seriously wrong. His reaction wasn’t normal for intoxication; this was something that happened more frequently to someone who had been roofied. Anybody here could have done it, which madeGabe want to destroy everyone in the vicinity. “ _GET AWAY FROM HIM!”_

Luckily the gawkers shied away from authority. The group of people surrounding Sam backed up, allowing Gabe to rush forward. He thought Sam needed to liedown flat **;** so he picked him off the stage and set him on the ground. It wasn’t easy, and he might have actually dropped him a bit when he was close to the floor, but he maintained a professional air which kept people back. He checked Sam’s breathing, his pulse, and shone his cellphone’s light into each eye, watching for pupil dilation. Gabe wasn’t necessarily sure what he was doing, but he had seen enough Dr. Sexy M.D. to know how to play the role.

“Sam, please, can you hear me?” He whispered urgently into his ear. He was scared to let Sam go with anybody else, anyone who might have wanted to hurt him.

“Yes.” Oh thank god. It was a faint noise, but it was definitely a reply.

“Sam, I’m going to take you home. You aren’t doing well. Can you move your legs?” Gabe was not going to try to carry him out, not after his less-than-graceful drop from earlier. It would be much easier if the kid could walk himself to the car.

Sam’s face tensed as he tried. “No, no I can’t move. What’s happening? Why?”

“Calm down Sam, it’ll be alright.” Gabe looked to the bar for assistance, finally finding Balthazar chatting up some girls. “Bal! Help me out!”

The man slowly sauntered through the crowd, obviously immune to acting appropriately in an emergency situation. “Oh God, he’s giant, isn’t he?”

“I’ll be your designated driverfor you for a month if you can help me get him in the car.” It was a big price for Gabe to pay, having to play taxi to a drunk Bal twice a week for a month, but Sam was impossible to lift by himself.

“You’ll owe me  _two_  months DD duty for Sasquatch, here.”

“Two?! Ugh, fine. Just don’t drop him okay? He gets the first class treatment.” Gabe directed Bal to grab Sam’s legs as he lifted under his torso. Sam started to nod off again. “Hey kiddo, try to stay with me, okay? Need you to tell me how to get you home.” His head rolled to the side and Sam was finally completed unconscious. Gabe and Bal looked at each other and, Sam in tow, quickly headed to Gabe’s car.

~*~

They reclined the passenger’s seat for Sam, laying him down with relatively few injuries. Gabe bade farewell to Bal and didn’t start panicking until he saw him go back inside.

Gabe didn’t know where Sam lived.

Not only did Gabe not know where Sam lived, but he didn’t know how to get him inside once he got there. A part of him wanted to take the half **-** naked man to his own apartment, but when Sam woke up he would no doubt freak out about being in a strange new place without his clothes on. Whether or not Gabe trusted himself around a half-naked Sam was also a small factor. He would definitely need to take Sam back to his own home.

Gabe was relieved to find Sam’s phone in the first pocket he checked. Searching through Sam’s contacts he realized that he didn’t know the boy as well as he would have thought. Whereas most straight men their age would have their phonebook full of girls’ numbers, Sam’s was surprisingly empty. He had only about twenty contacts total, eight or so were labeled ‘Bobby’ with a different government agency as each last name. Luckily he had descriptions of people as their last name and Gabe was easily able to find one called‘Roommate’.

“Hello Sam,” Cas Roommate answered.

“Actually, this is the **‘** Drunk Boy Delivery Service **’** speaking. I’ve got a delivery to whatever address poor Mr. Winchester here is resident.”

“Pardon?”

“Look, Sam’s had a rough time tonight and I’m taking him home. Problem is, don’t know where that is! So if you still live with Mr. Winchester here, I’ll be happy to fork him on over to you.”

“OH.” There was a pause on the other end and Gabe wondered if he had hung up. “I thought he was at the public library.”

“I did too.”

Cas gave him the directions to their dorm and promised to meet them in the parking lot to help carry Sam in. Gabe was comforted by the stranger’s obvious concern for Sam’s wellbeing and knew that he had made the right choice in taking him home. He lightly brushed the bangs out of Sam’s face before heading towards campus.

~*~

“Where did the shirt go?” Cas asked when he opened the passenger’s door. Gabe got out and rounded the car to meet him. Something about the stranger seemed familiar, like they’d met before. There were many a drunken nights that Gabe had forgotten, but something about this person seemed important.

“I’m sure one of his adoring fans is rubbing it on her face and creaming herself by now, he put on quite a show.” Cas looked about how Gabe felt. “C’mon, let’s get him out of there.”

Gabe was about to explain the method Bal and he had used to get Sam in but Cas gave Gabe his keys. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you open the door ahead of us?” Before Gabe could question him, Cas leaned over Sam, unbuckled the seat belt, and lifted him bridal-style from the car. As Gabe closed the door, a little shocked at how effortless Cas made that look, Cas maneuvered the body so Sam’s thighs hugged his waist and his arms rested on either shoulder. Cas’s arms supported him from under his ass and, while Gabe envied the excuse Cas had to touch it, he also didn’t want to be the one who had to cart the man up two flights of stairs to the third floor.

The only conversation they made up the stairs was of Sam. “How did he even end up like this? He hasn’t moved since I lifted him.”

“I don’t know,” Gabe replied. “To be honest, I didn’t expect him there. He told me he was going to a library on a date and next thing I know, he’s pole dancing shirtless.”

Cas thought about that for a bit. “That doesn’t add up right. He was definitely going to the library; he packed his notebooks and dressed up for it and everything. When I left for the auto shop he was studying so he wouldn’t look like an idiot when they all got together.” Cas rounded the corner, starting another flight. Gabe felt out of shape as he struggled to keep up, even without the burden. “What club was it?”

“Funny enough, it’s called The Library.”

“Oh no.”Cas stopped and sighed. “Well that explains a lot actually. Sam doesn’t know this area too well, there’s no way he would’ve known there was a place without books named Library.”

Gabe considered it. “That sounds… very plausible actually.” Gabe’s anger, something he thought he had gotten over when dealing with the emergency, lightened. He almost felt relieved. “Poor Sam didn’t know what hit him.”

Cas stopped in front of a door and motioned for Gabe to unlock it. Gabe chose the correct key on the first try and held the door open as Cas crossed the threshold with Sam in tow. “I think his keys are in his back pocket, could you grab them?”

Gabe reached in, palm flat against Sam’s ass. If Cas noticed he didn’t say anything. Gabe may have lingered a little, enjoying the curve and committing it to memory, before taking the keys and unlocking the bedroom door Cas nodded to. Cas easily laid Sam down on the tall bed and arranged the pillows so they supported him. Gabe watched carefully. Cas lightly touched Sam’s shoulder.

“It’s a shame,” Cas said softly, like he was thinking aloud, “about the shirt.”

“Yeah, it looked good on him.”

“I was surprised it fit him so well,” Cas replied, fingers trailing a little across Sam’s chest as Cas brought his hand back to his side.

“Was it yours?” Cas nodded. “Well I’m sure he’ll pay you back.”

“I don’t need the money.” Gabe caught the underlying message. It wasn’t a shirt, it was a gift. A gift that Sam had come home without.

“You too, then.” Gabe couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t handle Sam Winchester and the throng of women he had at school and the devoted wife he had here at home. He thought he had the boy on a string but was it really he who had been played all along?

“I what?”

“You love him too.” 

Love? Love wasn’t the word Gabe meant use. Love was this abstract concept that people used to refer to something much larger and much more intimate than seeing a goofy face with stupid dimples on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Gabe had a lust for Sam, that kid he sometimes saw, and nothing more. And now, with this many people in the running, Gabe was surely going to give up on the guy and move on to the next available hunk.

“I,” Cas looked alarmed at the revelation, like he didn’t know himself either. “I find Sam’s company… pleasing, yes.”

“Does he know you have a crush on him?” Gabe didn’t know which answer he wanted, but he waited for Cas to speak again.

“I do not think so.” Cas took a moment, like he was running conversations in his head. “No, he doesn’t even know I am gay. He asked if I wanted to join them tonight, to study.” Cas looked back at Sam, lying peacefully as if he was sleeping. “I wonder if I should have gone.”

Gabe understood his concern. If he hadn’t been there to take Sam away, what would have happened? Someone must have drugged his drink and coerced him into dancing to pump it through his system faster, but who? Sam must have had a large amount to knock him out;Gabe didn’t think a moose like him was likely to go down quickly. As he scanned Sam’s body, he noticed that the puddle of red liquid he had been dancing in had wet a good portion of the bottom of his jeans. Gabe drew Cas’s attention to them.

“Do we… take them off?” Gabe asked. He knew that sleeping in wet jeans was horribly uncomfortable, and if it was him he’d want them off, but where was the boundary here.

Cas looked like he was fighting a similar conflict in his head. “He couldget a cold,” he decided. Still, he hadn’t mentioned doing the actual task.

“If he wakes up without his pants on, will he freak out?” In the end, it was Sam’s comfort that was at stake.

“I don’t think so. Sam usually chooses to walk around in just his boxers when he’s here.” Cas realized what he said and looked apologetically towards Gabe. Gabe didn’t know if he envied him for being able to look or pitied him for not being able to touch.

“Well, if that’s the case, let’s make Sammy-boy a bit more comfortable.” Gabe started untying one of his shoes while Cas did the other. They worked slower than necessary, trying to match speed to assure the other that they weren’t too excited to work on his pants. They hadn’t needed to worry though, once they stripped Sam of his shoes and socks they both stood near his hips, looking at the button.

“You do it,” Cas said. “I don’t think I could.”

Gabe had unzipped many men’s pants in his day, but they had all been conscious. And willing. This seemed wrong on some level of morality he didn’t know he had.

 “Me neither.”

They stood next to Sam and looked at each other, hoping to find the answer somewhere. “Together?” Cas finally asked.

“You lift him and I’ll shimmy them off,” Gabe agreed. Cas nodded, slid one arm under the small of Sam’s back, the other under his ass, and lifted. Gabe thought that if he worked quickly and didn’t think about it they’d be able to get them off with the least amount of embarrassment. He undid the button and grasped the zipper pull, painfully aware of the bump of flesh the zipper travelled over to reach the end. “Ready?”

Gabe hooked the belt loops of the jeans, thinking the waistband was too intimate, and started pulling down. The back of the jeans resisted against the curve of Sam’s ass and as Gabe pulled quicker to get them over the bump, Cas’s breath hitched audibly.

The waistband of the jeans had caught the elastic of the boxers underneath. As Gabe had pulled the jeans, he had pulled the underwear as well, exposing Sam all the way to the base of his dick where it had caught again. Short, dark hair taunted Gabe as he quickly lifted the boxers up to hide Sam again. Cas looked stricken where he stood.

“You hold this in place while I slide these off, okay?” Gabe directed him. Cas let Sam down gently and placed his hands tentatively on either fabric-covered hip. Gabe thumbed under the band of the pants and stuck two fingers in the belt loops to grasp them. “Slowly this time.”

He started lowering them carefully. The agonizing speed gave him time to fully map out the lower half of Sam Winchester. He memorized the curve of the thigh, the strength of the muscle, the shape of his knee, the hardness of his calves, and the sharp points of his ankles. All the while, Cas made a soft noise, like he was whining, watching Gabe undress Sam while holding on to his hips. At the end, Gabe carefully folded the jeans, wallet and bills still inside, and placed them on the empty desk. Sam would find them in the morning.

Gabe and Cas worked to roll Sam onto his side against the wall, just in case he threw up in his sleep, though Gabe thought it unlikely. They also got him a glass of water and set a trash can near the bed. Cas offered to stay up and watch him all night but Gabe assured him that it would just be creepy. Cas insisted on sleeping with both of their doors opened just in case.

As Cas walked Gabe out of the apartment Gabe had an idea to find out what was bothering him. He turned around and offered his hand. “We didn’t officially meet yet, I’m Gabe Speight.”

Cas shook his hand and Gabe definitely did not wince at the strength of his grip. “Cas Novak.”

Oh. Well isn’t it just a small world after all? As Gabe walked down the stairs and out to the car,he amused himself by thinking of what his prim and proper, church-going, God-fearing aunt and uncle’s reactions would be when they found out they adopted a gay son.

 


End file.
